Eyes Wide Shut
by roundtabledivas
Summary: She needed a way out, an escape from what her life had become and gets just the opposite. He needed to make his last chance count and is put in a situation that could compromise it. Nothing ever goes as planned. HermioneDraco
1. Not Dead Yet

**Alright, here goes! This is Diva 1 (no I/we are do not have multiple personalities, this is more than one person!) Diva 1 1/2 and I both wrote this, and anytime we get together we work on this. Mostly for our own amusment, so if you hate it- oh,well! There's plenty of good stories out there, right? Anyways, onward!**

**Disclaimer FOR ALL CHAPTERS: We do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. Harry Potter is propety of the wonderful Authoress J.K Rowling. Sometimes, it's fun to pretend that we own it, but even then it's still not ours. M'kay?**

"blah"-talking

_'blah!'- _thoughts

**Eyes Wide Shut**

**Chapter 1:**

**Not Dead.. Yet.**

* * *

She looked up at ascending rows of straight-backed chairs and the leering faces of the wizards above her. She tried to count them, loosing her place as faces that she recognized jumped out of the crowd- Lucious Malfoy, Macnair, Bellatrix Lestrange. All of them prepared to condemn her already for breathing their 'pureblood' air. Things were definitely not looking good for Hermione Granger.

"Miss Granger," one of the unknown ones sneered. "Would you care to explain yourself ?"

'_Not particularly...bastard.'_

She remained silent.

"Is that a no?"

She still didn't speak. In response, he withdrew his wand from his robe menacingly.

She cleared her throat. "When you put it that way-"

"-While we'd _love _to hear your reasoning, Mudblood." Lucious interrupted snidely. "_Unfortunately,_ this council has more important matters to attend to than to listen to your pathetic excuses." They leaned forward towards her expectantly, just daring her pathetic mudblood self to argue.

'But it's a very good excuse!' she thought. Damn them for not wanting to listen to her well thought out excuses! 

"What do you suggest, Lucious, since you seem so keen on speaking unnecessarily," Snape remarked cooly.

Lucious glared over at the greasy man. "As a matter of fact, Severus, I do have a suggestion."

"The council is listening, Lucious."

He cleared his throat. "I believe, that we should execute _Miss_ Granger on the terms of her past associations with the Order, continued disregard for the law, and her connections to one Harry Potter!"

A murmur raced throughout the room. Slight nods of agreement accompanied the hushed whispering. The apparent leader stood. "Does anyone object to this proposition?"

'Uh, let me think, I DO!' 

"I object." A man stood, his face cloaked, unlike the others, who had discarded their mysterious masks so long ago when the Dark Lord's reign began. "I have a better idea."

Lucious looked ready to strangle him, while the leader looked more intrigued than anything. A single quirked eyebrow indicated his interest. "Do tell."

"If you consider her past academic record, as well as her previous knowledge of the workings of the rebel forces, I believe we can put her to better use. If put under my control, I believe she could become a very valuable asset to my department and to our forces as a whole." Shocked silence greeted his speech.

"Any objections? Because, as Lucious said, we do have more important things to attend to." Snape drawled. Arguments broke out amongst the assembled deatheaters.

"Think about it!" the man called. "Working under our control will be the brightest mind Hogwarts has produced in years! As well a member of the Order, and one of the best friends of the late Harry Potter!"

Luscious objected loudly. Hermione glared at him venomously, willing him to spontaneously combust into flames. Just the thought of it brought a grim smile to her face.

'_Burn baby, burn.'_

"How is this acceptable? Have we any way of knowing that she's not secretly sabotaging our plans? After all of our hard work, you're going to let her waltz in here and become one of us! This is an outrage!"

"Yes, we can tell," Hermione's savior spoke calmly above the uproar. "Just think, what a fitting end for the right hand girl of Harry Potter. Forced to work for the people she has fought against – in vain, I might add – and against those she has fought for." He paused ominously, for effect. "A virtual prisoner."

Lucious opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

"If that doesn't work," he added, laughing, "We can always kill her later."

"All in favor?" Numerous hands rose throughout the room. "It is decided. Hermione Granger shall join the Department of Mysteries under your command." He stood, nodding to the cloaked man. "Adjourned."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't dead... at least, not yet...

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	2. Murphy's Law

**Alright, here's chapter two. If you're actually reading this- please, feel free to let us know what you think. Not much to say this time. **

**Eyes Wide Shut**

**Chapter Two:**

**Murphy's Law**

* * *

The dark, dingy room stank of alcohol and filth. Walls that at one point in time had been white, now gray with age and mold only added to the rank odor.

"Ron, come on! You should really clean this place up! How can you even stand to live here?" she ranted, hands placed on her hips as she walked past the stacks of days old pizza boxes and over to the week old dishes piled haphazardly nearby.

Ron lay sprawled on the couch, looking up at her with bleary, glazed eyes. His appearance was disheveled, from his unshaven face, to the beer bottle clutched in his hand. Needless to say, Ronald Weasley had seen better days. "I don't see why it really matters 'Mione." He took a long drag from the bottle. "There'll just be more t'morra."

"Which is why you should get ahead of it _today_," she said, sighing exasperatedly. She watched as he lifted the near empty bottle to his lips. How many long nights had they spent this way? How many times had she left, convinced that she had finally won, only to come back and find the same scene greeting her as she walked in the door? She shook her head absent mindedly, too many.

"Come on, Ron," her voice softened. "I'm really worried about you." She didn't know why she even bothered any more. He never listened, yet she would be back tomorrow, saying the same things she had said tonight, and so many nights before.

"You shouldn't worry," he slurred drunkenly, "Nobody else does."

She threw her hands up, "What does it matter if any one else cares? I care!" "Isn't that enough," she added in a low voice. He stared at her blankly. "I love you, you bastard! Doesn't that mean anything?"

He belched, and took another swig. He lurched to his feet and embraced her, beer bottle still in hand. "I love you 'Mione," his breath was hot in her ear, tickling her skin, and filling her nose with the stink of alcohol. "I just..." he trailed off.

"It's okay, Ron. I know," she said. But the voice in her head knew better.

'_Different night, same line as always.'_ "I know."

He dropped the now empty bottle to the floor. "Hermione," he said, speaking her full name for the first time in ages. "Could you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, what?" she asked wearily.

He leaned back, holding her by the shoulders and looking her in the eye. The unexpected change in character caught her off guard, and sent chills up her spine. Was the old Ron coming back?

"Can you get me another beer?"

"You drunken son of a bitch!" she shouted, shoving him backwards and onto the couch. His head lolled as he fell back. "I can't believe you!" She continued storming about searching for her coat. Finally locating the brown over coat, she yanked open the door, pausing to shout back at him, "When you decide to act like a real adult, instead of a drunken fool, you know where to find me!"

The door slammed, rattling the precariously perched dishes. He sat silently on the couch, wishing many things. Among them, that she had tossed him a cold beer before leaving.

"Bloody git," she muttered to herself. She hugged the coat closer to her in the cold night air. "Stupid, bloody, drunken..."

Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice where her feet were taking her. Before long, she stood in front of a frozen statue of an angel. "Some help you are." she grumbled as she stomped past. Could her life possibly get any worse?

It started to snow. Apparently it could.

"You there, Freeze!"

'_I already am!'_ Hermione thought bitterly.

"Show me your pass, please, Miss." he demanded, emphasizing the word miss. Fake courtesy; the man sure knew how to charm a woman. Suddenly the light bulb in her mind clicked on. Pass? Oh no...

"Um, its..."

"Pass, Miss?" He smirked. He knew she didn't have one. "Oh, too bad. By order of our Dark Lord, you are now under arrest."

Murphy's law: whatever can go wrong, will.

Damn you, Murphy!

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**That's all for now. What'cha think? Love it? Hate it? Suddenly feeling the urge to kill us/anybody else? We'll never know if you don't tell us! **


	3. Not so strange Stranger

**Hey, we're both here this time- anything you want to say 1 1/2? **

_Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! _

**Anything... intelligent?**

_Uhhh... I like sugar cubes? A LOT!_

**That's what I thought... Here's the chapter.**

* * *

They walked silently down the long corridor. The man who had saved her from an early grave was still cloaked and just as mysterious as before.

"Thank you Mr..." she trailed off, realizing she had no proper way to address him.

He halted before the door, pulling a long, sleek wand from his cloak. "That will do." waving his wand once, the large wooden door slid open easily.

"Mister?" she said, unsure. It just sounded so... to put it bluntly - lame.

"That's what I said," he snarled, "What are you... a parrot?"

She sighed overdramatically. "No, I'm just the brightest mind Hogwarts has produced in years! Member of the dreaded Order of the Phoenix. And, what was that last one?" she said mockingly. " Oh yes! Right hand girl of the late Harry Potter. That is what you said...correct?"

She found the tip of his wand suddenly lodged into her neck. "Don't push your luck, Granger." he snarled. "Just because I saved you this time, doesn't mean I will always be that generous... understand?"

'_I don't know, maybe if you lodge the wand even further into my throat. That'll help me understand... bastard.'_

She nodded. "Good." he said, removing the wand. He stepped through the doorway, obviously expecting her to follow.

"I suppose you have some kind of twisted ulterior motive?" she said, still testing the water. " Would you care to go off on a long, utterly boring monolog about it? The silence is killing me."

"If you keep _this_ up," he threatened. "You'll wish the silence _had_ killed you."

'_Such a friendly man. I think we'll be great friends!'_

He shot a glare back at her, daring her to try something funny as they stepped into another, larger room.

'_Or maybe not.'_

"Hmm." she mused aloud. "You've done some remodeling since the last time I was here. I'd say you've added a touch more doom and just a tidbit despair... good show! I like it!"

His hand smacked against her cheek, leaving a large red handprint. "This isn't a game, Miss Granger." he spat her name out, like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "We aren't some morally righteous knitting group like your precious Order. We won't tolerate your cheek, and we won't hesitate to kill you."

They were deep within the Department of Mysteries now, when he turned off of the main passage way, into a smaller corridor of stone. She could hear water dripping somewhere in the background, but it was too dark to see where. The only light came from damp torches, that if not made of magic, would have rotted away years ago.

He stopped abruptly. It took her a moment to realize that they were standing in front a small, wooden door. She could see the hallway continuing stretch on endlessly in either direction, though neither showed an easy escape. '_So much for that idea.' _she thought glumly, wishing that she wasn't always right.

The room beyond the door was small, dingy, with barely enough room to pace back-and-forth. It kind of reminded her of Mr. Weasley's small home office...gone dungeon.

"This is where you'll be working. Your predecessor was a bit...sloppy, I'm afraid." he stated blandly. "Come to think, so was his death."

She felt some of the color drain out of her face. "What a pleasant thought." she said, shivering slightly and suddenly thankful for her coat.

"If you want to avoid meeting the same fate," he warned. "I'd suggest keeping your wits about you... and your troublesome tongue in check."

She nodded, deciding to employ the advice about keep quiet right then. No time like the present...right? He turned to walk away, leaving her decidedly alone in the large, empty room.

"What exactly...am I supposed to do?" She asked cautiously, wanting to avoid angering him yet again...

He turned back. "You can worry about _that_ later. For now, clean this place up!" He left the room, closing the door behind him with a slam.

'_Look at me! I'm so tough, I just call myself 'Mister'. I think I'm so cool, but really I'm just hiding my low self-esteem and my secret love of dolls behind my big, flow-y cloak of evil!' _Hermione thought sarcastically as she paced (best as she could, anyway,) around the small desk. _'Bloody git.' _

Now that she was left alone in the room, she could appreciate how dirty it truly was. How many forests had been slaughtered for all of the paper scattered upon every available surface.

She grabbed a sheet of said numerous papers, and clicked on the old fashioned lamp.

The yellowed paper was covered in thick, scrawling handwriting- none of which made any sense at all. Throwing it aside, she sank down into the nearby desk chair. For lack of anything better to do, she began to sort the papers into two piles- legible and non-legible. Unfortunately the latter was growing much faster than it's counterpart.

She sighed. At this rate, it was going to be a long night.

He walked slowly, his footsteps echoing loudly off of the stone walls. The sound of the creaking door echoed as well, he wasn't surprised. Everything echoed in this empty, god forsaken place.

His escort left him in front of a small door. He slowly opened it and stepped in side. It swung shut behind him with an ominous click of the locking tumblers. Needless to say, he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. But he was not alone.

She lay face down- at least, judging by all the long hair, he assumed and sincerely hoped that it was a girl- between two large stacks of paper. The one on the left tipping dangerously to the side.

He cleared his throat loudly. She jumped. Her eyes were wide, obviously shocked at being awakened. A single piece of paper stuck to the side of her cheek.

"Who's there?" she asked groggily, pulling the sheet away from her face. Finally she saw him, leaning against the doorway nonchalantly. She blinked rapidly, once, twice, three times. "Draco?"

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_Clicky! Clicky! Clicky the review button! Wheeeeeeee! I like sugar cubes! And reviews! Reviews are good.. but so are sugar cubes... then again, mac and cheese is pretty good too! _


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